The Fellowship of the Dragon
by KirinKarou
Summary: A pair of twins go on a magical adventure with a useless mage, a withdrawn fire angel, a renowned elf, and an ancient demon to find a dragon!
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The stars shone down on the lands below, their meager light failing to pierce the heavy, cold fog that lay upon the forest. Beneath the fog, animals stirred uneasily. The entire valley seemed to be waiting for something.

Suddenly, a footstep shook the earth. Then another. And another. The thunderous crash of ancient trees falling under a tremendous weight woke each and every animal who called the forest their home. An ancient, pain-filled roar sent tremors through the air, pulling birds in flight out of formation. The obsidian head of a dragon rose above the canopy of the forest, high, higher, higher still, on a neck that seemed to be a column that held up the heavens themselves. Into the clouds it extended, a solid, immovable pillar of scales and flesh.

With a rumble as of an avalanche in the highest peaks, the monolithic dragon spread his wings. And oh, such beautiful wings they were, of darkest night, speckled with fire and ice, the colors of the stars in the sky. With a sound like the splitting of a mountain, the dragon flapped its wings. Once. Twice. Again. The trees in the valley bowed and bent, dancing as if to a song only they could hear. Slowly, painfully slowly, the black dragon rose. An inch, then two. A foot.

It roared to the heavens, claiming all the night sky as its domain. Gradually, the animals of the windswept forest joined in, adding their chirps and howls, growls and squawks to the bellowing of the black dragon.

Together, they sang the dragon into the clouds, where it was borne away by coastal winds, and never seen again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

The day dawned bright and clear in Hyrule, a small town in Ayortha. The streets rang with children's laughter and the shouts of peddlers hawking their wares.

"Fresh goat cheese, best there is!"

"Get your greens here, fresh from the field!"

"Fortune-telling, matchmaking, tarot reading!"

The happy villagers meandered through the town square, browsing through each stall. There was, however, one gloomy face.

Celisanne stormed through the streets on the heels of her brother, steam practically billowing from her nostrils.

"How come YOU get to do everything fun? How come just because I was born with different body parts than yours, I am confined to a life of child-rearing and dreariness? I am your twin! The same in every aspect other than gender! And yet you get to go off on your sixteenth birthday with a shining new Valyrian steel blade to travel the world and embark on any adventures you wish, and what do I get? A pack of silver-tipped sewing needles! The outrage! It's not fair, Saeron." She huffed in fury, her face the color of the tomatoes being sold in the stall they passed, and shook her mane of wavy silver hair.

"Celisanne, you know as well as I that if it were my decision, you would be given the same as I, and we could go on our adventures together. But it is not I who gifted you those needles, it was Father, aye, and Mother, too. If you have complaints, take it up with them, and see what your words earn you," her twin brother said. "Now we have work to do. Do you have the list of things Uncle said to buy?"

Wordlessly, Celisanne pulled out the wrinkled paper.

"Sugar, salt, lemons, a pair of boots from the cobbler's, a waterskin, and a satchel. Sounds like you're going on an adventure, brother," Celisanne grumbled. Together, they set off into the busy marketplace to buy what they needed.

By noon, they had bought everything their uncle had requested of them, and had settled down to eat a quiet lunch in a small diner overlooking the fountains of the town green.

"You know what?" Saeron said suddenly. "I'll buy you a sword with my own money. It'll be as good as my own sword, and we can set off on adventures together. What do you say?"

Startled, Celisanne inhaled as she swallowed and began to choke. Her brother pounded her back until she could speak again, when she promptly demanded, "What do you mean you'll buy me a sword? You need that money for travelling! If anyone's going to buy me a sword, it's going to be either Father or me. I'd rather buy myself a sword-that I've earned myself-than have you spend all your money on me."

"Well, alright, then. But you'd better do it fast, or I'll be long gone, sister," Saeron teased. Celisanne punched him in the shoulder, and he kicked her under the table. Glaring at each other playfully, they finished their meal with a comfortable silence between them.

They delivered the items to their uncle, who paid them generously and invited them in for tea. They refused, and ventured back into the marketplace to shop for the rest of the day.

"Hey, look at this," exclaimed Saeron, holding up a tiny tin music box. He twisted the crank a few times, but no sound came out. "I think it's broken, sister," said Saeron glumly. Suddenly, all the untied chickens, horses, dogs, and cats came pouring into the tinkerer's tent.

The tinkerer snapped out of his doze and glared at the twins, then the animals.

"What in tarnation is going on here? Why are all these animals in my tent? Out! OUT!" The tinkerer's voice rose shrilly above the clamoring of the animals, who were doing a fine job trampling all his wares into the dusty ground. The twins gently shooed the animals out of the tent under the watchful eye of the tinkerer.

"Thank you, thank you," he murmured. "In thanks, you may each take any one piece you wish from my stall. I assure you, they are finely wrought, only the best craftsmanship. Worth many tics."

"Very well, then, if you insist," Celisanne replied. "I'll take this one, with thanks." She picked up a knobbly contraption that clicked and clacked appealingly.

"Ah, fine choice, little miss. That is a handheld Deluminator. It will shine with light when necessary, and drain your surroundings of light when told. Here, let me show you how it works." He demonstrated and handed it back to her. "Use it to keep you safe on dark nights, little miss."

"Could I have this?" queried Saeron, holding up the small music box that had caused all the trouble.

"But of course, although it is only a broken music box. Perhaps you will find some use for it," the tinkerer replied.

"Thank you for the presents, master tinkerer," chimed the twins in unison.

* * *

At home, they recounted their day's events to their parents over dinner, a delicious spread of homegrown greens, trout, sharp cheese, and fresh-baked bread. Saeron brought his music box out to show them, though he did not twist the crank, explaining that it drew animals from nearby. Celisanne pulled out her handheld Deluminator and showed them the light-manipulating properties it had in their kitchen.

"Very good, children," said their father. "These are powerful items you have acquired. I hope they will serve you well on your journeys through life, and perhaps even beyond."

"Yes, and they were nobly won, too! Continue to perform good deeds and the world will treat you well, as you have seen today." Their mother smiled, her blue eyes crinkling good-naturedly.

"Oh, yes, I'd been meaning to ask, but are you sure I mustn't have a sword and adventures like Saeron? We are practically the same person!" Celisanne leaned forward, her gold-speckled green eyes burning with a hopeful light.

"I'm sorry, Celisanne, but that is not the path of a woman," her mother said with a regretful shake of her head. "Perhaps elsewhere, but not here. Here, women only mend and darn, bear and raise children. That is all. Sometimes I wish it were otherwise, too, but wishes fill no bellies."

"Well, I'll just travel away from here, to a land where women have adventures just like men! Surely that wouldn't be a problem, then!"

"Sweet child, what would the townsfolk think of us, your parents?"

"I don't much care what they think, and you shouldn't, either!"

"If you're so set on this path, then fine. Do the same chores as Saeron for a week and if you don't complain, then your father and I will give you the same things we gave Saeron. Alright?" Her parents looked at each other, then back at her.

"Alright! Thank you! Thank you for hearing me out!" Celisanne leapt out of her chair and hugged her parents around the neck, then hugged her brother. "Brother, we're going to be together! Oh, what fun we'll have!"

* * *

~~~One week later~~~

"I did it! I made it a whole week without one complaint! And look, I even have callouses now!" Celisanne bounced around the house, showing everyone her new callouses.

"Well, alright, then," her father grumbled. "Come with me- you too, Saeron. We're going to the blacksmith's and the tanner's, oh, and the stables. Bring your sword and Lady with you, and meet us in the main road."

Saeron led Lady, their old plow horse, out of her stall and into the road, her saddlebags slack and empty. Together, the three of them— four if you counted Lady— set off into the bustling town.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"Where should we go first, eh, Celisanne?" Their father asked, halting in the town square. "Blacksmith, tanner, or stables?"

"The stables first, I think. I want to see how much weight my horse can bear before we start buying things, and we need a horse before we can get a saddle." Celisanne replied.

They crossed the square to the horse stables, and tied Lady outside the building. The three of them continued inside to see the horses.

"Ahoy, stable master, which ones are for sale?" asked her father.

"Well, any of them, except Slicker and Beauty, here. Call me over when you've got your eye on one," the stable master replied.

They split up and examined every horse for sale, looking inside mouths and under hooves, feeling snouts and estimating withers. Saeron settled on a beautiful dappled silver mare that looked as fast as the wind, while Celisanne chose a black stallion with the glossiest mane in the stable. Their father looked, and nodded, pleased with their choices. The stable master came over, chuckled, and began haggling with their father.

"My price is 200 tocs," said the tanner.

"Ah, that is 100 tocs too many," said their father.

"No, no, look at the horses, such fine horses."

"Alright, 110 tocs."

"150."

"120 tocs and 500 tacs."

* * *

~~~~~~Later~~~~

An hour later, they left the stable, their new horses in tow. Celisanne swung up and rode bareback, while Saeron winced and looked on.

They trooped across to the tanner's stall, where various leather items were on display, ranging from spittoons to halters, from leather underpants to coracles, complete with oars and a sail.

"Two sets of full tack, please, tanner," called their father.

"Coming right up," yelled the tanner, sweat beading on his forehead as he rushed around, gathering saddles and stirrups, reins and crops.

"Oh, no, we won't be needing crops," their father hastily said.

"Alright, then," said the tanner. He tried the saddles and halters on the horses, checking straps and buckles, then had Celisanne and Saeron get on their respective horses to adjust the stirrups and reins. "Well, that's all in order," he said. "Anything else?"

"Ah, yes, do you have any good sword belts?"

"Of course we do," the tanner puffed. "For you and your son?"

"For my daughter and my son," explained their father.

"But of course," demurred the tanner, grabbing two thick belts. "How will these do?"

Celisanne and Saeron tried them on, then nodded.

"Right, how much does that come to?" asked their father.

"About 2,000 tacs," replied the tanner, as he began haggling.

* * *

A half hour later, they finally came upon the blacksmith's tent. There they saw a burly man with arms the size of a fencepost hammering upon cherry-red steel and pumping the bellows energetically. When he had cooled his masterpiece in the barrel of water, they stepped up.

"Hello, could you shoe my two horses, here, and also, do you have any good Valyrian steel blades for us to see? I'm also interested in light steel shields," their father asked.

"Yeah, I'll do it. There's Valyrian steel on that wall over there. When you settle on a piece, yell for me and I'll take it down for you. I don't think I have any shields that would fit any of you, unless you're interested in custom metalwork." The blacksmith led Saeron's silver away first.

Saeron and Celisanne gazed at the weapons hung on the wall, all burnished bright and wickedly sharp.

"Look well, my children, and tell the good from the bad. This is true Valyrian steel, here, dark, but shining. It's lighter and harder, and it holds an edge better than any other steel. It has more strength and flexibility, too. They say the best Valyrian steel swords were forged in the breath of dragons, but they're all gone now. Both dragons and swords." Their father shook his head sadly. "Anyway, can you see the difference between Valyrian and normal steel?"

"Yes, Father," they replied.

"It's important that you take care of your sword, unless it's a magical sword. Probably isn't, though, aren't many of those around anymore. You know what to do?"

"Yes, Father, we know," they chorused.

"Well, go ahead and pick one, Celisanne," urged their father.

Celisanne scanned the swords displayed, her eyes roving over each hilt and blade. She selected a magnificent blue-tinged hand-and-a-half blade with double fullers running along it. There was a clear blue jewel set in the pommel, visible on both sides. The crossguard's arms were embossed with flowing patterns of swirls, and the black leather grip felt solid in her hand. The steel of the core of the blade made appealing ripples where it met with the harder steel of the edge. Its scabbard was of stiff leather and wood, and it fit perfectly on her hip. She tried drawing it a few times, then tried slinging it onto her back, the belt running over her shoulder and down her back. It fit loosely between her shoulder blades, so she tied it back around her waist.

"I like this one, Father," Celisanne said.

"Alright, I'll go pay the blacksmith, then. You two stay here and see if you need anything else." said their father.

"Hey, it matches mine," exclaimed Saeron. "Look!" He drew his sword, which was almost the same as hers, but his was set with a green stone, not blue.

"Oh, well I don't want it, then— oh, I'm _kidding,_ Saeron. I'm sure it'll be wonderful to have matching swords," said Celisanne.

"Matched, just as we are, eh, sister?" commented Saeron, with a playful nudge of his hip.

Together, they turned to a large shield hanging on the wall, and looked at their reflections.

"Indeed, we do look like a matched pair of horses, fit to pull some fine lady's carriage, don't we," said Celisanne. "But I must say, we're more like a fine horse and a scrawny donkey, with you looking like that."

"Oh? I must be the noble steed, and you the lowly ass, then!" replied Saeron. "Just look at that horrid skin tone! What have you been doing, bathing in whitewash? You look like an albino donkey that's been locked up in the dark for 16 years!"

"And what have you been doing, bathing in carrot juice?" retorted Celisanne.

"You'll look like this, too, after you've been in the sun awhile. It's part of being an adventurer!"

"Oh, and I suppose you know _all_ _about_ adventuring?"

"More than you do, at least!"

"Stupid."

"Numbskull."

"Hey, what's that?" Celisanne suddenly said, pointing at the ceiling.

"Wha-OW!" Saeron punched her back, laughing helplessly.

~~~Some time later~~~

Celisanne and Saeron stood above a table full of knives and daggers. A target, painted sloppily in red and white rings, stood at the other end of the table. They examined the shining blades, each one sharp enough to cut a hair laid over it. There were concealing daggers, hunting knives, skinning knives, bodice daggers, knives that could be strapped to vambrace or cuisse, throwing knives, stiletto knives, and cooking knives.

"Wow, look at this," said Saeron, holding up a dagger with an interesting pattern on the blade. He tapped it with a fingernail. "That's solid steel right there, must be worth a pretty penny. And such fine craftsmanship, too!"

"A pretty penny indeed, lad. You have a good eye. I'll let you have it, though, and a blade for your sister, as your father has been a generous customer. May it serve you well, wherever your path may lead."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you very much!" said Saeron.

"I'll take... this one, if that's okay with you," said Celisanne, holding a bright steel dirk with a looping swirl coming up from the hilt and ending midway up the blade.

"Aye, that's Elven work, right there. I think the tramp who sold it to me said its name was Sting. It's rumored to glow blue in the presence of Orcs or Goblins, though I've never seen it at work. Seems like a handy trick, though. Use it well, lass." said the blacksmith.

"Thank you, sir. I shall." said Celisanne.

"Thank you for your presents, blacksmith. Your kindness will not be forgotten." said their father.

Saeron, Celisanne, and their father left the tent and mounted their horses.

"Last one home's a rotten egg," chortled their father, as he nudged old Lady into a canter.

They galloped off down the dirt roads, laughter echoing behind them, to their cottage in the green summer fields.


End file.
